


A Siren's Voice

by A_L_Chorus



Category: RWBY
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Fear of Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:25:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_L_Chorus/pseuds/A_L_Chorus
Summary: A siren's song is solemn, an ill omen for some hunters and huntresses. This tale tells of a man who feared nothing, who finally found out what he feared most.





	A Siren's Voice

**Author's Note:**

> This is a small drabble to not just build a canon world for a RWBY OC I have, but also to gauge my skill as a writer. Comments are welcome and appreciated; and advice is more than welcome. - A.L. Chorus

A simple, murderous man- one who had taken many lives without question or juxtaposition. The poor soul bolted through the forest; the only thing on his mind to run from his hunters and live another day, to steal and plunder. In the dead of night -the only ambience is that of the sloppy, slushy sound of the mud as he walked- the heavy rain that looked as though it could drown the land. It felt like bullets raining down on him. Regardless, he pushed on. Continuing to evade his possible captors with ease.

There were huddles of footsteps behind him. Far away- but steadily closing in. The rain obscured his vision, and the terrain made enough noise to give away where he was. After hiding behind a large oak tree, he stopped for not just respite- but to listen for where the other hunters were. He heard two voices. Obviously male. But the third? Out of earshot. He couldn't hear for the life of him. The thunder and rain were of no help to him; the elements purely against his escape. He held a sword so tightly that his hands nearly bled that crimson elixir that flowed within him. 

His tunnel vision broke after hearing a light step in the mud. The man emerged from his hiding place, gripping his blade with conviction. Adrenaline pumped through him, but the only thing that had taken his mind had been his fear of death. His paranoia grew with every step, so much that every step terrified him more than the last. But what made his nightmare a reality; seeing a cloaked, masked figure who had two large bladed kama at their side. 

At first he thought the Grimm Reaper had come for him; but as the figure walked closer, the mask was different. Almost in the shape of a crow. The figure drew their weapons, coming closer and closer to the man. He screamed, yelling for the masked figure to come no closer; as he looked at the figure further- He turned on his heel to run, and fell with no warning. At this moment, he could almost hear…singing. 

The voice...was feminine. Her sorrowful wail seemed to calm him, yet immobilize him in fear. Almost as if she were a siren from mythology.

"I'll not grieve for you...but your end will be swift, this I promise." The woman finally spoke, closing the distance between them with such ease. She swept his feet with one of her kama, and then dropped her heel into his stomach. After a swipe at his neck from one of her blades, he heard the familiar crack and fizzle of his aura, and any hope he had of escape had died instantly at that moment. She hummed a soft, harmonious note as she combined the two weapons into a large, dual bladed scythe; pulled the man up to his knees and raised the weapon high.

In a swift motion, steel met flesh- 

Another life, cut short. A flame of life snuffed out prematurely. 

The woman seemed to wade back into the forest's depths; to god knows where, blood coating her scythe like a crude coat of paint as she continued her harmonious perish song, like a wail of someone who lost their light.


End file.
